Canticle: Code Caligula

Chapter 7: Push Towards the Deepcut! The Zoroaster Tournament Begins!

Zoroaster Memorial Arena, Yomi — One day later. The tournament's opening ceremony was underway. Every single seat in the stadium was sold out as demons cheered on their favorites. Some had on body paint to support a district or town within Yomi while others had banners and signs they hoped would be seen by their friends or loved ones in the arena. Thunderous cheers and raucous whooping could be heard from kilometers away. The event was so big that it was even being broadcast on live television in the underworld.

Trumpets flared and shirtless muscular men beat in rhythm on large drums for the audience of nearly two-hundred thousand people. The arena itself was massive, shaped like a large oval with towering spires flying the flags of Yomi and its different cities. The scalloped roof featured twenty arches arranged in a ring, resembling a magnolia blossom from the outside. The unique design cast a beautiful shadow in the middle of the arena while gigantic monitors displayed close-up footage of the band playing in the center.

As the band finished up their song with a flurry of beats on the drums and a final trumpet blast, the crowd stood and clapped vigorously. What looked like the bottom half of an egg cast in chrome hovered around the arena. A man appearing in his late forties with picturesque slicked back hair, chiseled features and a microphone sat comfortably in the flying contraption.

"Hellllllllll~o ladies and gentlemen! Can I hear some more love for the wonderfully talented Hade United drumming troupe??"

The man put his hand to his ear, nodding his head as he smiled with a toothy grin that only a celebrity could muster. The people cheered once more as the man and his hovering announcer's seat zipped around the arena.

"That's the stuff, people! I'm your host, Dagon Jinn! I know you're dying to see some blood and magic fly and so are our brave contestants! Without further ado, let's get the 5,723rd annual Zoroaster Tournament started!"

Mura and Lilith sat in the waiting arena, which was nicely lit and catered with enough delectable and alcohol to fill several dining halls. They sat on a comfortable couch as contestants around them either ate, meditated, laughed obnoxiously or worked out.

"Dagon really looks like he had work done, doesn't he?" A female contestant said.

"Yeah, why they choose a prima donna like him to host this year is beyond me." Replied a muscular man with a large mustache and slight lisp.

Lilith snacked greedily on a chicken drumstick. Mura looked at her silently as a bead of sweat rolled down his head.

—She must be used to eating out of the trash or something. Really hope she doesn't binge too much, it'll slow her down.

Despite the night they spent together in a room provided to them for signing up, the two had barely made any sort of true connection. Mura had tried asking Lilith personal questions like what her hobbies were, where she was from originally and so on but no luck. Aside from that however, Mura could sense a potential friendship in the making.

"Sooooo Lilith, that's the sixth chicken wing you've had." He said to her, trying to start conversation. "You must like chicken, huh?"

"Who the hell doesn't like chicken?! Of course I do, don't you? Wait a minute, why are you counting my wings?"

"Well yeah! I love chicken, I'm just trying to not eat too much."

"Wanting to maintain your girlish figure, I see. The camera adds five kilos anyway." Lilith said cheekily with a laugh.

Mura felt his face grow warm as he stumbled for words.

"Well I'm not the one dressed in a skintight bodysuit! If anyone is going to look bloated, it's you!" Mura retorted, still half-flustered. Lilith's cheeks turned scarlet and she threw the chicken wing at Mura, causing it to bounce off his head and fly through the air. A wide-eyed man zoomed past them and snatched the wing out of freefall with his teeth.